What ah want and need
by inuyasha's tennyo
Summary: Rogue struggles to figure what is better for her, what she wants or what she needs. Romy!
1. Chapter 1

Okay….. hi! This is my first attempt at writing a fic, so criticism is welcome! I plan on making this into a Romy eventually, not sure when it'll get there, but it will. Also, the updates may be sporadic, so please, feel free to yell at me. I'm not sure how the whole Beta thing works, so my story is not proof read, I apologize for spelling and grammar errors (my spelling is terrible, and slightly offensive… T_T) I plan on manipulating the time line for my benefit, and going through some major time skips. As far as the plot goes, this is more of a character fic, going inside the mind, and discovering things. And finally, this will be a slightly darker fic, not so much an-omg-i-have-to-go-slit-my-wrist-after-reading-that-last-chapter, kind of fic, just a slightly more realistic version of what could happen. So thanks for reading!

PS REVIEW…. Please?

Logan was confounded, well not so much confounded as mildly confused, but Strom couldn't quite distinguish the emotions displayed on his face to be sure. So for now she settled for looking at him from her peripheral vision discreetly as he stared conspicuously at the residents of the garden.

It had been three months sense Logan had left the mansion after the events of Liberty Island, leaving no trace of himself behind other than the new addition to the students known as Rogue, the fiery southerner, and the gaping space in the garage where Scott's bike once resided. The professor said that he had gone north again, in serch of his past. To be totally honest, Storm had not thought that they would ever see the feral flannel wearing mutant again, but here he was, standing next to her looking as if he had just found out that the sky was green, and the grass was blue.

"We hadn't expected to see you again this soon Logan." Storm said in an attempt to bring him from his stopper. It worked; Logan took his gaze away from the teenagers milling about the garden on their day off and looked at her quizzically.

"I told Rogue I'd be here within the week," he started, and then his expression changed from confused to mild amusement, "guess Rogue wanted to surprise Scooter". For a moment he looked as if he was going to say more but changed his mind and returned to looking out across the terrace. If Storm could guess, she would say that perhaps thoughts of Scott, turned into thoughts of Jean, and perhaps that lead to questions about how she was doing, but then he thought better of it.

Storm was about to say something about taking him to the Professor, but then something about his last statement struck her as odd. "Rogue knew you were coming? I hadn't realized you two kept in touch." The look of amusement was back on his face as Logan once again looked away from the garden.

"Once a week," he said, "keeps her from going crazy, hearing about places other than where she is."

Storm looked at him for a moment, she had no idea that he and Rogue had stayed in contact, not that Storm spent much time with the girl, but they had shared a few late night conversations, those where the times that the residents of the mansion where woken by the screams from one of Rogues many nightmares.

"Kid likes to keep things to herself. Can hardly blame her." True, with all the extra occupants in Rogues mind she probably felt that her business was constantly being looked into; a little outward privacy was probably all she could do to keep from feeling to exposed. Though for a girl who was constantly covered from head to tow in yards of fabric, exposure of any kind was hard to manage.

As Storm was about to say something else she caught the smile that spread across Logan's features just as he was tackled by a blur of fabric and two toned hair.

"Logan! Ah wasn' expectn' you fer another copple'a days, why didn't you call?" Her smooth southern twang floated across the open space of the garden, drawing the attention of most the other occupants. Including that of the small group of teenagers she had suddenly left.

"What, and ruin the surprise darlin'? Nah, thought I'd get here early and give you your present." As Storm watched the exchange she couldn't help but to notice its strangeness. Here was this gruff, dangerous mutant talking pleasantly with the aloof and distant untouchable girl. Apparently, she wasn't the only one to find the exchange odd, jugging by the confused faces of the group of Rogues friends who had made there way up the lawn, and where now looking onto the scene with slight shock. Logan and Rogue continued on, completely oblivious to the small audience they had acquired sense Rogue's exclamation.

"Present? Why Logan, you old softy, you didn' haft'a git meh anythin'." Though the look on her face suggested to Storm that she wouldn't object too much to getting it anyway.

Logan simply raised one eyebrow at her and began to re-zip the old worn duffle bag at his feet. "Well kid, if you don't want it…" he trailed off jokingly. Huh, Storm thought, who knew the Wolverine could joke?

Rogue simply smacked his shoulder and put her hand out, all the while putting a look of pure innocence on her face. Logan let out a small chuckle and dug into his bag. Storm briefly wondered about what it was the Wolverine had gotten the girl. Gloves? Jewelry? A trinket of some kind? But the more Storm thought about it the more hilarious the image of Logan shopping for a teenaged girl became. Before she could laugh out right she was pulled from her musings by a triumphant grunt from Logan as he pulled out something tiny and raped messily in old news paper.

Rogue took it from Logan's hand and examined it with a falsely critical air. "Rapped it yourself, did yah sugah'?" before opening it to revel a shot glass printed with Toronto in black lettering and a red maple leaf. She looked at it for a second, and storm wondered if Rogue liked it or not before the southern girl let out a long stream of laughter that took several secants to subside before hugging Logan again.

"Thought you'd like it kid."

"Yeh Logan, I like it, another one for the collection all right."

"That was the idea Darlin'."

Storm realized she was missing something.

Later, after a short meeting with the professor, and some short and awkward introductions to some of Rogues friends Storm was on her way to dinner navigating the long corridor of the teachers wing when she passed a slightly open door. This was nothing unusual, the residents of the mansion were not known to lock their doors, or fear for their things to be stolen, if you couldn't trust the people here then who could you trust? What did strike Storm as odd was the fact that the room was the one given to Logan, and that it sounded as if some one was in there with him.

Now, Strom was not by nature a suspicious person, merely a curious one, so as she got closer, and the voices grew louder Storm's curiosity was picked. It was Rogue's voice that was floating into the hallway. For a moment Storm debated with herself on the ethics of listening in on privet conversations, but her mind was settled as she herd the topic of conversation.

"Ah never really thought you'd get meh the shot glass Logan, yah know ah was just joken when ah said ah was thinkin' of starten' a collection." Well, that answered that, thought Storm.

"I know kid, but I thought you could use a hobby anyway." Logan's gruff response was colored with a hint of amusement.

"And shot glass colectin' is the hobby of choice for 17 year old gals is Logan?" Came the playfully sarcastic response.

There was a momentary pause in conversation, and a small rustling of fabric, Storm guessed that Rogue was helping Logan settle in. Thinking that the conversation was nearing its end, Storm was a bout to turn around and continue en-root to dinner when there was a thought clearing cough from inside the room fallowed by Logan's voice. "So kid, seems like you've been having fun here." There was a slight pause before he continued. "Made some new friends, some good friends."

A slight huff of annoyance was heard before Rogue spoke up, "Just say what you wan'a say Logan, and stop beaten around the darn bush already." The cool frankness of her voice surprised Storm.

"All right kid. Why didn't you tell me you where seeing any one?" Strange, Storm thought, that Wolverine was so interested in Rogue's social life.

"I told yah ah was seen Bobby, remember? You threatened to slice and dice him if he treated me wrong." Storm thought back to Logan's meeting with Bobby, when the Iceman iced over Wolverine's hand. Ah, the wonderful world of teenaged jealousy.

A half amused half annoyed grunt could be heard from Logan, "That's right, what I meant to say I why didn't you tell me you where seeing two guy's, and one a whole lot more than the other?"

"That's…"

"Don't try to deny it kid, I could smell you on both of 'um, and that fire kid had a whole lot more of your sent then I ever needed to smell." There was silence in the room.

Well, Storm thought; that explained Logan's puzzled look this morning.


	2. challenge

Sorry for the long wait! But I had a hard time thinking if the next chapter. I do have chapter 4 written, but not chapter 3… that one could take a while yet. I'm not quite sure of how I want it to go. Any way, I think I like this chapter more than the last one, I had no real idea of what I was going to write, so I just sat down and began. I think my writing is better that way. If that makes any sense. When I know exactly what I want to write, and exactly how I want it to happen I become less descriptive. Because the whole scene is playing out in my head I see every thing clearly. But it gets lost in translation, so to speak, and no one else sees what I'm trying to get across, at least not as nicely as I see it. But when I don't really know how things are going to play out, and I sit down to write it's like I'm trying to see the scene on paper and not in my head… well enough of that, here's the next chapter, hope you like,

and please, PLEASE review, I have none, and would really like to know what you guys are thinking. I would like suggestions on things and feed back!!!!

* * *

The air felt thick, and the dry sent of stale whisky and tobacco cloaked the room like a dense fog. The lights where dim and the room was smoky, the sound of clinking glass and idle chatter could be heard echoing throughout the room. Dollar bills hit the table and a bored looking Remy Lebeu put down another winning hand. Now Remy had always been good at poker, a natural who could beat the pants off anybody, but this was just ridicules. He'd been playing for about an hour now and his competition –If you could call them that- were hardly worth the effort, didn't anyone know how to play a good game any more? It almost felt like steeling. Not that Remy felt that there was anything particularly wrong with steeling, he was, after all a thief by trade. And a damn good one too.

But the grand and a half that he had won in the hour he had been at the table just seemed too easy to be worth his time. Because nothing worth doing was ever easy, as Jean- Luke would say, it was a general rule of life that Remy had adopted many years ago. That was not to say that he was not going to take the money, he wasn't an idiot, just a board man looking for something to do, or some one.

Looking around the darkened hole-in-the-wall bar Remy decided that there where definitely no true challenges in here, but just like the easy money from the poker game, some things could be made exceptional, for one night at least. Taking one last swig from his glace of bourbon and biding his table mates good night Remy collected his earnings and made his way to the bar in serch of a conquest for the night.

And there she is, a tall leggy Femme with black hair cascading down her back. She sat at the bar, legs crossed and just screaming for trouble. 'If it be trouble she wants, then it be Remy she gets.' A slow smile made its way onto his handsome face was he slid onto the stool next to her.

"Now what can I do fo' you cher?" his thick Cajun accent drifted through the room and girl looked over to Remy, coy smile in place darkening her sultry features. She had a touch to much makeup on, and her tiny black dress was rumpled in a way that told Remy he would not be her first partner tonight. And right now, Remy didn't care too much. It was late, he had more energy than was he needed, and if nothing else those long legs of hers looked like they where made to be rapped around his waist.

The dark haired girl gave him a quick once over, assessing his chances of getting into her bed, most likely, and her smile brightened. "Well you could start by getting me a drink." Her crass northern accent was only slightly off putting to Remy, but not enough to stop him from signaling the bar keep for another round.

"An' afft'a dat?"

"We'll see."

'We'll see' turned into Remy pressing her into the cold wall of the dingy bathroom stall as she rapped her legs around him in a vice like grip as he pounded himself into her with a reckless abandon that left them both breathless. Her arms clinging tightly to his shoulders and the sting of her nails as they dug into the skin of his neck made him push harder, faster. As did the breathless moans and half uttered fraises' she muttered between chanting his name like holy prayer. 'Huh, at least one of us remembered a name' vaguely he wondered if it was bad that he didn't remember her name, he wasn't even sure he asked. But those thoughts where ripped from his mind as she let out a particularly high pitched cry and her inner walls started to contract tightly. She was close, and Remy could feel it too. That delicious tingle that radiated heat throughout his body, so close, he could feel the glorious numbness starting to over take his mind. The girl was a mindless withering heap, clinging to him desperately as her release overcame her body. And with one final savage thrust Remy grunted his release, and sank fully into that mindless oblivion for just a few seconds, letting him forget every thing for just a while.

He forgot all the death, and the lying, and the cheating, and the loneliness, all the things he had to give up, or would never have, and for just a second or two he felt safe, he felt calm, he felt peace. But the reprieve was broken as the nameless dark haired beauty untangled her legs from around his waist and slid down to place her feet to the floor and straiten out her rumpled dress. The last vestiges of Remy's happy illusion were finally shattered as she gave a shaky laugh, and said "Hell, that was unexpected, you ever come back this way just give me a call and I'll come running." She withdrew a small peace of white paper with her name and number on it from her clutch and handed it to Remy. With out much care he took the paper and slipped it into his pocket. He wouldn't use the number; he thought, he had been right, no challenge.

As she left on shaky legs to reenter the smoky bar Remy looked after her until the door closed and he was once again left to his thoughts. He caught his reflection in the mirror and stared at himself for a moment. He was not yet 40, but too damn close for his tastes. At 36 he still had all the boyish charm he had at 20, the hard lines of his face adding a roguish element to his charming smile. As he tipped his head forward to slide his ever present sunglasses down, his auburn hair cast a shadow over his red and black eyes, his most captivating feature. Hardly a wrinkle in sight, nothing to show the hardships of life, or the never ending struggles that Remy had gone through.

Suddenly Remy felt tired, tired like a man his age had no right to feel. That hallow feeling had sunk back into the pit of his stomach, 'what now,' he thought, 'what do I do now?' it was a question he couldn't quite answer, though he knew there was one. Buzzing at the back of his mind, he knew that he had a reason for coming this far north. Pennsylvania was not a place he frequented.

Finally he was able to push himself away from the fogy mirror and pull himself together. He hated these moods he sunk into. Nothing good ever came out of self pity and sadness. He ran the cool water from the faucets and rubbed his face vigorously. The cool biting sting was just what he needed to push the shadows from his mind. As he dried his hands off on the sides of his jacket –no way was he touching the towels in this place- and righted himself, his phone gave a short, loud beep, signaling that he had missed a call. Well he had been occupied, he thought.

As he looked at the number Remy was suddenly reminded why he was in this shit hole bar in Pennsylvania, and he quickly punched in his pass code to listen to the message, his heart feeling just a bit lighter.

Sure enough it was Storm's voice that greeted him, reminding him of his promise. Like he needed reminding, he thought with amusement. He was already on his way to see her. He closed his phone and made his way out to pay his tab and hit the road again.

The Cajun's thoughts drifted to his long time friend, Storm. Ororo Monroe, a beautiful woman with kindest heart he knew of. She had been just a tiny thing on the streets of Cairo when he found her, abused and steeling to stay alive. She had reminded him so much of him self, that he had done more than just take her to the nearest orphanage. He took her with him, and gave her a home and a family with himself. They stayed together for a few years, until her powers had manifested and he took her Xavier's. A place he had heard might be able to help her. It was good for her that place, better than he was. He thought. So he left her there, in the kind hands of the professor to watch over her. He had thought about staying, the professor had even offered his a spot on the teem, but that wasn't for him, to stable. He needed to move and be free. But he did miss her company, and for some reason she seemed to miss him too. So they stayed in contact over the years, and she made him promise to come and see her every two years which he did, happily, like clock-work (a promise was thing that Remy never took lightly). Much to the chargen of visor clad leader of X men Remy thought with a smile. Scott did not approve of their friend ship or of Remy in general. And Remy just loved to annoy the hell out of Scott with every visit, and if that meant showcasing his worst habits (drinking, gambling, partying, ect.) and large amounts of flirting with both the older students and Jean, than Remy was more than happy to flaunt his faults and do so with a wide grin as Storm looked on with badly concealed amusement.

"Hurricane Remy" she had called him once, after one of his infamous visits in which he had managed to convince the older students that a massive party was a good idea, and that if they worked hard enough, through the use of there powers, hiding it would be no problem. It would have worked too, if Scott hadn't come crashing though the front doors of the mansion two hours early with the rest of the staff in tow catching Remy heading a Poker game.

Boy was Scott mad, mind you none of the other teachers where exactly happy with Remy either, but the fact that he had kept any alcohol and other illegal substances bard from the party, helped to ease some of the hard feelings. And when the professor had said to Scott that perhaps he was being a bit too harsh with Remy the dubious, sputtering, fish-out-of-water look on Scotts face was enough to keep Remy chuckling for the next few months. As was the fact that the augment had almost come to blows when Scott had pointed out that he had been teaching the kids how to gamble, and was that really the kind of thing they wanted to promote. But when Gambits only reply had been that most of the kids already knew the game, and it wasn't like they where using money (candy bars and cookies where about as high as the stakes at the table had gotten) Scott had gotten up and just about lunged at him before the professor had intervened.

Yes Remy had promised the professor that no more unannounced parties would take place with his visits and gotten off relatively scot free he still chose to serve the extra cleaning duties with the kids for the rest of his visit, and watch as the kids thru heated glances at Scott, and sang Remy's praises.

It wasn't that he disliked Scott, no; he thought he was an all right guy, just a bit to up tight, but the man just made it far too easy to get under his skin. And Remy found it far too amusing to get him riled up.

Feeling significantly lighter as a result of his reminiscing, Remy jumped the kick start to his bike and sped off into the knight, sharp winds hitting his helmet, and headed off in the direction of New York to keep his promise to an old friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Wow... uuummmm, so, sorry? ahahahah. i hve no real excuse for this, so i wont try and cheapin this update with one. please enjoy.

and as always please tell me what you think.

Rogue Looked at Logan for a secant before a small smile appeared on her face. "Well Logan, when two people like each other enough to…"

"That's not what I meant and you know it kid," he said, not at all amused. "I meant why you introduced one as your boy friend and one not at all, but the way I smelled it those roles should have been reversed."

Rogue looked away, not quite sure how to explain it. She had known that Logan would be able to figure it out, she just hadn't expected him to be upset about it. She was a big girl, she could take care of herself. Though, if she were to be completely honest, Rogue would admit that it was getting to be a bit much, all the sneaking around was stating to be a pain, and the guilt, that was the worst part. "It's no big deal Logan, we're just havin' some fun."

"Fun, kid? How is cheatin' on your boyfriend fun?" His tone was laced with disappointment, and Rogue could feel the heat start to creep up her face, she looked down to hide the blush now staining her cheeks.

"Ah didn't mean to." That was pathetic and even she knew it. But it was also the truth. She hadn't meant to cheat on Bobby. Bobby was a great boyfriend. He was always so considerate of her, so gentle with her, hardly ever argued with her, and most importantly, he made her feel safe. Rogue never felt that Bobby was going to hurt her, and that was something that she needed. There was just one problem with Rogue and Bobby's relationship. "He's afraid of me."

Logan looked, and it took less than a secant for the emotions to pas on his face, going from disappointed, to confused, to understanding and sympathetic. But Rogue didn't want his, or any one else's sympathy. She was strong, and didn't need any one to feel sorry for her. Rogue, the poor little southern girl who can't touch, how unfortunate; that's what they said about her, she knew, and it mad her sick.

"They treat me like a lepper Logan. Or like I'm some kinda' china doll, that'll break at the slightest touch, and Ah'm sick of it!" At this point her breath was coming out in short angry pants, and Logan was looking a little more sorry for her, which mad a little more angry. "Don't you look at me like that Logan, ah don't need _you_ feelin' sorry fer meh."

"I aint giving you pity Rogue, if that's what you think." The Canadian looked calmly at Rogue, his previous ire with her seemed to have gone, and he spoke with a firm care that made it impossible for Rogue to stay mad, "I know how it is, believe me I know. But you just got to remember kid, that you, Rogue, Marie, is not dangerous. It's your powers that are. And if they can't realize that there is a difference between you and your powers, well it's there loss then."

Rogue knew this to be true, but sometimes it was easier to mope and fall into line with those around her. Life was never easy for anyone, why should she be the exception? And besides, nothing worth doing was ever easy.

They stayed that way for a few moments until Rogue pulled away, looking far calmer than she had minutes before. There was no awkwardness in the air, only a comfort, and ease, that neither had felt entirely comfortable with, neither of them had been able to trust feelings of comfort for so long when faced with so much disappointment and let down.

Now faced with the reality of the problem and the look Logan was giving her, like he was glad that the problem had been dealt with, and put to rest with minimum emotional upheaval, Rogue wished that the only reason she had gone to John was the unintentional osorization by the others; that the only thing that made her turn to the unstable fire wielder was his disregard for danger and need to push boundaries (her skin, the biggest boundary in existence was like a taunting flame for a moth). But there she knew that there where some things that Logan just wasn't ready to hear.

He didn't need to know that there where things about her past, and her character, that Bobby would never be able to except. Or that unstable nature in John called out to her own, that same part of her that made every day stayed in the same place so hard. No, Logan saw her the same way the rest of the mansion saw her, the way she wanted them to. She was closer to him than any one else, but still so afraid that he would be disappointed with her. And maybe, in the future, when she was ready to fight threw the cobwebs of her past, Rogue would tell Logan about every thing she had done. But for now she'd let him be, ignoring the Logan in her head that told her he didn't care about what she'd done. That he was proud of her for staying alive, that she only did what she had to do to keep sane and safe.

The moments of silence lasted until Logan cleared his throat and gruffly pated Marie on the shoulder. "Feel better now kid?" He stepped back a little to look down at her.

"Yea Logan, you big old softy. I'll live." Rogue laughed at his attempt to save face, and look like the tough guy he felt the most commutable being. "I still don't like it though, this place. It's suffocating me."

"Just finish up high school Marie, and you can tag along." For a moment Logan looked like he wanted to take it back. Rogue knew it wasn't because he didn't want her around. No, as much as he tried to push the lone wolf persona Rogue knew that he did get lonely on the road. The real reason he looked so hesitant was for the same reason that the Logan in her head always whispered reminders to do her home work, or to pay attention in class. He thought she deserved better than the life of a drifter, and maybe she did. But right now, all Rogue could think about was freedom. The same freedom that she had had on the road, only with Logan, she would be able to enjoy that freedom, unlike her time spent alone.

Feeling that all issues had been settled for the moment Rogue decided that a change of scenery is just what the doctor called for, "well what do ya say ta gettin' out'ta here and sayin' 'hey' ta the all powerful leader?"

"All ready seen the prof. but I wouldn't mind finding somethin' to eat."

"I was talkin' about the amazing one eyed wonder in leather." And that was the final ice breaker that put the two back into the ease from before any heavy conversations. Logan barked out a gruff laugh, that put Rogue at ease and moved toward the doorway. "Scooter getting too big for his britches, kid?"

"Nah," she gave a dismissive sort of wave and followed him into the hallway. "but you know me and authority, we may never see eye to eye." The playful tone of voice dropped along with her hands which had been making a two fingered eye-to-eye gesture as her gaze landed on storm.

The slightly older women looked as thought she had been caught in the cookie jar before her composure found its way back and she made to continue down the long hall.


End file.
